Slytherin Survival Tactics
by Cherylyn
Summary: Harry doesn't want to go back to the Dursleys, and is willing to do anything to make that happen. He finds help in unexpected places, defying Dumblore without even trying.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Harry Potter- if I did, he would have figured out Dumbledore, shook off the expectations of the WW, and lived a comfortable life somewhere with lots of sun.**

Summary: Harry starts to wonder if there is anything he can do to keep from having to go back to the Dursleys. He is pretty much open to anything.

Harry left Dumbledore's office, wondering just what it was about him that made fate hate him so much. Christmas was coming, and he was happy at the idea of spending his first Christmas away from his own personal hell. He had gone to the Headmaster in an attempt to maybe sign up for the summer, and he was told that things just couldn't be that bad at the Dursleys, after all, they were family. How could any ward be strong enough to protect him when it was obvious he wasn't wanted? He just didn't understand such stupid magic. Up until now, magic was the most wonderful thing in the world.

In frustration, he snarled at a painting of a snake wrapped around a pretentious looking man. "_The only good thing about magic is that you portraits actually move. I hate the rest." _He took a deep breath and sighed, hoping to make it back to the tower before curfew since he had wandered down an abandoned corridor in his frustration.

"_Child, speak again to me. What makes you so distressed you would blame magic?" _The man in the painting looked genuinely curious, so Harry answered him.

"_I live with muggles that hate me and magic, and I asked the Headmaster, who is supposed to be my magical guardian, if I could stay here at the castle this summer instead of returning to their home. He gave me a sob story about how things can't be that bad for me, and to try and get along since they are family." _Harry was gesturing wildly and didn't notice how his magic was starting to stir the air around him. _"How can I get along with someone who hates my very existence?" _He glared at the portrait, unable to stop the pain in his heart. He wanted to belong, maybe even loved. A family of his own; oh, how he longed for it.

The portrait saw the longing, felt the magic, and knew he was looking at the next generation's most powerful wizard. He knew Hogwarts' inside out, had seen and tasted the magic of all of the first years, and without a doubt this boy was going to be something. And to think, he had actually wanted to explore a different corridor in the dungeons, but his magic had pulled him here do he had come and waited. Magic never disappoints and must feel as if it needs to mend the rift between it and the boy.

" _I may be a nobody, but even the muggleborn here are wanted at home. That's all I want, you know? Why can't I at least stay someplace where I won't be a slave, and get to eat? What is so wrong with me that the Headmaster feels I need to be punished in such a way?"_ Harry didn't notice the look of shock of the face of the man, he was busy brushing the few tears that managed to sneak out away as fast as possible. Tears made you a target after all.

"_Thank you for listening. I need to go. Please don't tell anyone, OK?" _Harry looked up from the floor with hope at the painting, pleading with his eyes to spare him the embarrassment he imagined at the hands of others if this conversation got around. Hermione did say he had puppy-dog eyes, so he tried to look pitiful as well as hopeful.

Harry had no way of knowing that he was talking to a portrait of Salazar Slytherin himself, and it was obvious he had no idea he was talking in parseltongue to someone who knew what that meant. It was also obvious to Salazar that this boy somehow belonged to him, he could feel the connection, and he wasn't about to lose him. _"Of course, you can count on me. Listen to me closely now, what I am about to tell you is very important." _He had Harry's undivided attention. _"We are talking to each other in a language only understood by snakes or others of my line. You, little serpent, are a parselmouth and should not be in the muggle world for any reason. Tell no one of your ability unless I say to, it is considered dark and you will become a pariah. I will help you find a place to stay in the magical world in exchange for you doing the absolute best in all your classes you possibly can. Do me proud, and you will be amazed at what I will do for. Deal?"_

Harry watched the man in the portrait with amazement. This was a nothing more than a painting, yet was willing to help him find a real home? His answer was yes. It couldn't be anything else. "_Yes! Oh God, Yes!"_

"_Run along then. I will meet you tomorrow after dinner in the right hand corridor from the Fat Lady."_

Harry wasted no time heading to his dorm, so he missed the satisfied grin steal slowly over the face of Salazar. He knew the story of Harry Potter, and he hadn't missed the lightening bolt scar. What on earth was the Headmaster doing, some sort of experiment on his heirs? Enough. He would snatch this one out from under the very nose of a manipulative old man. Did the child have no funds? No extended family elsewhere? Every pureblood family had relations around the proverbial corner. Time and enough to find someone who saw the value of having the 'boy-who-lived' in their family. By the time this year was over, Salazar promised himself, Harry Potter would be out of Dumdore's hands, and into his where he belonged. After all, no one plays politics like a Slytherin.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry threw himself on his bunk in Gryffindor tower, thinking about the conversation he had just had. He had had a few jolts today. Dumbledore didn't care about the abuse he suffered at the Dursleys, and talking to snakes was not common among wizards. He needed to find out more about this magical world, instead of just being happy to be somewhere with a bed and lots of food.

When he was young, and he needed something badly enough, it would happen. Like the time when he hadn't been fed for days, the hunger pains had actually disappeared and he thought he was going to die, when a sandwich or a bowl of soup would appear. It was always just enough to keep him going, but he thought maybe someone was looking out for him. It was obvious to Harry that whoever it was, it wasn't Dumbledore. So who was it? Was it just magic? Or was someone watching out for him without Dumbledore knowing?

Harry needed more knowledge. Time to disappoint Ron and join Hermione in her library attacks.

After classes the next afternoon, Harry and Hermione could be found in the library by themselves, abandoned by Ron who stayed in the common room to play exploding snap and wait for dinner.

"Hermione, what did that book on genealogy say about heirs?" Harry asked absent-mindedly while rifling a book on pureblood politics.

"Well," Hermione said, "A lot of stuff about family magic. It seems to be the most important, like how some magic is particular to that family. If a pureblood family wanted to try ad add a talent to their line, they married a daughter into it. Then they would marry the daughter's children back into their line. Downright barbaric! Magic seems to stop the genetic side-effects of inbreeding, though. Too bad. And the information is incomplete! There is nothing here on what the magical talent actually is!" Her nose was wrinkled in her displeasure. She slammed the book shut she was reading, and shoved it over to Harry. "I have a feeling that most of what purebloods know is not in this book." Harry reached a hand out and grabbed the book while sliding the one he had over to her.

"I have a feeling, Mione, what I need to know can only be found in a pureblood mind." Harry looked over at her, gauging her reaction. "I may need to actually talk to a pureblood that knows all this stuff 'from his Momma's knee'."

They both looked toward the doors of the library when they heard a commotion to see Malfoy and his two cronies arguing. Harry turned to Hermione and smiled real slow. "Maybe I should have said 'Daddy's knee' instead."

Hermione's mouth fell open in her shock. "Harry, not him! He is so horrible, 'just wait 'till I tell my Father'! I bet he would lie to you just to make you look foolish!" She pursed her lips in concentration, and spoke reluctantly. "I bet he does know what you need to know. Are you sure getting away from the Dursleys is so important? What if **he** turns out to be your nearest relative?"

Harry responded to Hermione in frustration, "Better a Malfoy than a slave." He looked back to the doors, but his eyes were stopped right by their study table as the subject of their conversation was standing close enough to touch.

"Malfoys are always better. Care explain what you were talking about?" Malfoy's lip curled up as he looked at Hermione. "I just can't understand the company you keep, scarhead. Even a halfblood should have more pride."

Harry gave an apologetic look to Hermione, with his puppy-dog look she seemed to like so much. With that off-hand nasty Malfoy comment his point was proved, and if he could learn from even the insults thrown his way it would be worth it. Maybe Malfoy was a good solution to his problem, vileness and all. "Oh all right, but I want details later." She then stuffed her books in her book bag and stomped away, muttering under her breath. She missed the look of confusion that crossed Mafoy's face at her comment.

Harry knew he needed to pull this off right, so he cleared his throat and stood up. "Hello, Malfoy! Fancy meeting you here! Have a seat, let's chat, yeah?"

Malfoy may have been a prat, but he was a smart one. "What do you want, and what's in it for me? After all, you made if perfectly clear on the train that you think you are my better."

Harry was confused. "All I did was say I can pick my own friends. How did that insult you?"

Malfoy could tell Potter was being sincere. It shocked him. "What were you, raised by Muggles?" It was meant as a sort of joke, everyone knew Dumbledore would never let his Golden Boy be raised by savages. This was the chance his Father was talking about before boarding the train. How could Potter possibly not know about the insult he gave him?

"Seriously, Potter, how stupid do you think I am? Everyone knows about handshakes among wizards. Are really going to try and tell me you don't know?"

Harry, who should have been in Slytherin, saw his opportunity and took it. "I was raised by Muggles." He relished the shock on Malfoy's face. "Magic hating muggles, who blamed me for natural disasters across the globe all the way to runny noses. Then they took great pleasure in punishing me for it." Malfoy looked a bit indignant now. "They don't want me to come back this summer, and I don't want to go, but Dumbledore insists that I return." Malfoy looked horrified at this. "I don't know what I did to insult you, because I would like to be your friend, but I know nothing!" By this time his voice had raised and he took a breath to try and calm down. "Nothing. I have no clue about how things are in the wizarding world. I don't know about money, or classes, or old magic, or new magic, how anything works, or even how to learn about all this! So, whatever I did to you on the train, I am sorry. Would you please explain it to me, so I won't offend someone else on accident?"

Draco Malfoy was stunned, but he was also sure that this was his opportunity to make things go his way. He slowly sat down in Hermione's abandoned chair, thinking all the way. What would it hurt to see how this went? He could always go back to attacking Potter if this was a ruse. There was a lot at stake here, so he had better make sure.

"Potter, there is a vow you can make to prove you are telling me the truth, but if you are lying then you will lose your magic." Whether he was lying or not, he would still come out ahead with this one. Potter would wind up a squib, or his Father would have what he needs to take Dumbledore down. "Just raise your wand and swear on your magic what you just told me was the truth." He smirked, fully convinced Potter wouldn't do it.

He was shocked when Harry raised his wand and began to speak. "I, Harry Potter, swear on my magic that what I have told Draco Malfoy is the truth." There was a flash of light that quickly disappeared. "Now what?"

Draco closed his mouth from where it had fallen open, cleared his throat, then said, "cast a spell, something simple. If it works, you were telling the truth. If it doesn't, your glory days are over."

Harry grinned as he pointed his wand up and firmly said, "Lumos." The light was stunning, but not as much as the look that came over the Malfoy heir's face. "Oh, are we going to have some fun. Here's what we'll do…" They scooted their chairs towards one another and bent their heads together, all rivalries forgotten in their common goal. Worked as well as the troll incident had for the Golden Trio.

Neither one noticed the small portrait above the doors to the library and against the ceiling, no one ever did, after all.

His first mission a success, Salazar Slytherin turned to his next idea. It was going to take more time to set up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Harry Potter is not mine. Too bad.**

Harry's day had gone extremely well. He didn't get lost, hurt anyone, or blow anything up. And, the big showdown was going to happen at supper in the Great Hall. He was so excited!

Just a few more minutes and Herbology would be over. Harry shifted from foot to foot, trying to contain his energy. He looked over at the Slytherins, hoping to spot his new partner in crime. Draco caught his eye, and gave him a slow wink. Harry snorted, rolled his eyes, and mouthed back to him 'pansy.' Draco's Dad had better be as important as he said he was, or this wouldn't work. They were following his instructions after all.

It was almost showtime.

After a quick shower and clean clothes, Harry found himself waiting for his friends to come down so they could head off to dinner. He wanted to go ahead, but Hermione would beat him. He told her the gist of what was going to happen, but she wanted details and he wanted a realistic response from her. If she knew too much, it might not be believed.

Ron would be believable. And probably never speak to him again.

Oh well. Sacrifices must be made. For the greater good, of course.

Hermione came down the staircase without taking her eyes off of Harry. He shifted a bit, and pulled at his collar. He was feeling the heat. Ron ambled down the boys' staircase, mumbling.

"Ready to go, yeah? I'm hungry." Harry spoke quickly, trying to head Hermione off. He didn't want Ron to have any idea anything was going on. Best to let that keg explode on its own, with many witnesses. Ron nodded, and they were all silent as they headed down to the Great Hall. Ron was mumbling again, about food Harry thought, but all he caught were snatches. Hermione was pretty much scaring him. She still hadn't taken her eyes off of him. No pressure.

Never was he so happy to see the doors to the Great Hall. He forged on ahead and pushed through, looking for a good spot at the Gryffindor table. He settled on the end with his back to the wall, giving him a good view of the rest of the room. Nothing left but the wait.

Draco Malfoy entered the Great Hall with his bookends, looking as if he hadn't a care in the world. Until he glanced over to the Gryffindor table. He gestured to his bookends, and they made a slight turn and headed for The Golden Trio. He had timed his entrance to make sure Dumbledore was not there, but the other professors were. They all needed to know without interference. Showtime!

"Potter! What do you mean by talking to me in Herbology? Can't make up your mind?" Draco asked, with eyebrows raised. "What is the matter with you, that you don't even follow the simplest of courtesies? If you don't want to be friends; fine, but you are acting like you do, but you have discarded all of the courtesies that go with it. Once more, and I am breaking tradition here by giving you a second chance, what do you want? And to make sure we understand one another, do you want to be friends or not?!"

Harry stood up, and faced Draco, while turning a bit more sideways so his voice would be sure to travel across the whole room. "What do you mean? I was trying to be nice to you because I don't want to fight with you anymore. How could you possibly think I was trying to be discourteous? And I never said I didn't want to be friends, only that I want to choose who I am friends with myself. What did I do, break some magical tradition? I would like to remind you, that I was muggle raised, and I had no idea of that the magical world existed until Hagrid showed up when I turned 11 to rescue me from my jailors."

The silence in the Great Hall was profound. Not a sound was made for a few seconds, then the inevitable whispers started. It seemed everyone was surprised by what was just disclosed.

Harry swallowed loudly, and silence descended once again. "Draco Malfoy, it appears I may have done something wrong here. I apologize, and to make sure we understand one another, I would like to start over. This time, would you tell me what the traditions are, what a normal magical would be expected to know, so I can do this right? I never wanted to hurt you." Here he raised his voice to make sure everyone heard him. "I would also like to apologize to anyone else I might have offended. If I have, would you please tell me what I did, what I should have said or done? I would really appreciate learning what I obviously don't know, but somehow am expected to." He turned back to Draco. "Draco Malfoy, would you please teach me this stuff? You are the first person I have met in the magical world who has even mentioned this to me. I don't want to offend anyone anymore."

Harry's heartfelt words echoed, and all of the students started encouraging him. "'We support you, we never believed you were that rude' '..knew something was wrong when you didn't..' 'how could your magical guardian allow…'" The snippets Harry overheard gave him an idea that would help to change where he had to spend his summers. According to Draco's Dad, the one who was responsible should have his responsibility taken away. Time to start the ball rolling.

"Does anyone know who my magical guardian is?" The silence was immediate. One lone Slytherin stood up, and asked what everyone wanted to know. " How is it possible that 'the boy who lived' doesn't know who his magical guardian is? By law, you should have been informed from childhood; guided, taught and cared for by your magical guardian. Who ever it is should be removed from their position over you." From the way everyone reacted to that statement, it was unanimous. The Hogwarts student body as one believed Harry needed a new guardian.

Harry felt hope grow in his chest. Maybe this would work.

As the talking grew louder, Dumbledore entered the Great Hall. He slowed as he walked, realizing something was up. He saw Draco by the Gryffindor table, and turned towards him. The Hall grew silent again, no one wanting to miss a single word of what was said.

"What is going on here, boys? I hope we aren't fighting again." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes were no longer fooling Harry. They had never fooled Draco. "Shouldn't you take a seat at the Slytherin table, Mr. Malfoy?" the headmaster asked.

"Yes sir, under normal circumstances. However, it seems a travesty has occurred. With your position of Headmaster, it should be easy for you help. Mr. Potter's guardian has allowed him to grow up ignorant of the magical world, his role in it, and of the magical traditions that are his by right of inheritance." He didn't mistake the enlarging of the Headmaster's eyes. Bullseye. "We have settled our differences. In doing so, Mr. Potter has asked for my help. I would like to start doing so by asking you who Mr. Potter's magical guardian is, and if you be so kind to send him a missal to contact my Father as soon as possible. I will, of course, owl my Father to be expecting a meeting soon with Harry's magical guardian to see what should be done." Draco smiled at Harry. Dumbledore knew Harry knew this mysterious guardian was none other than himself. Draco was trying to force Dumbledore to say it out loud for all to hear, and hold against him.

Dumbledore had missed the conversation, but he was a smart man. He knew he was being set up, and he knew why. He would just have to sweep this under the rug, because he wanted Harry at the Dursley's. He must not have explained it well enough for Harry to understand how important it is for him to stay with blood family. Whatever the disagreement he had with his family wasn't worth this much trouble. He must clear this up, preferably in private. This setting wasn't where he wanted to have this conversation.

"If you would just follow me, Mr. Potter, I am sure we can come to an agreement." Dumbledore smiled to reassure Harry of his good intentions. He hadn't expected him to cringe in response. What was going on?

Draco knew now was the time to act. "Headmaster, who is Harry's magical guardian?" Draco's Father had specifically said that Dumbledore must say it was him in front of so many witnesses to make sure he couldn't obliviate the knowledge away.

"Harry, I would be happy to talk to you about this in my office. If you would?" Dumbledore gestured to the door, fully expecting Harry to obey him.

"Headmaster, why do you insist I have to stay at the Dursleys? I told you they hate me and want me gone, why do you get to say that I have to go back?" Harry wasn't taking chances, he wanted to make sure he didn't have to go back. It was definitely time to channel his inner Slytherin. "What gives you the right to decide that? I know I must have some relatives in the magical world. I want to find my magical relatives and stay with them. I don't want to go where I am not wanted!" Couldn't he see that Harry meant it? Why would anyone expect him to voluntarily go where they were abused and hated?

Draco was able to piece the information together for the listeners in the Great Hall with Harry's last statement. Harry was pretty smart to force the issue like that! "Headmaster, for you to tell Harry where he has to live, you must be his magical guardian. Why would you hide that from us? What is so bad about the muggles you placed him with that you would hide that information from us? None of us knew you were his guardian!"

The murmuring was getting louder. Dumbledore looked around at the students, and he saw no friendly faces. Even the staff looked to be upset. He had to say something before this became a mess he couldn't clean up. "Please, everyone, understand. Harry needed to be protected. The blood wards his mother's sacrifice made only work around a blood relative. Only at the Muggles house is Harry truly safe from the dark magic that took her life." A few faces looked as if they were considering what he said. Time to clinch this, and force Harry to accept his decision. "I had to place him where no death eater could reach him." He was shocked at the looks given him now.

"So, you placed him with muggles, then never checked to make sure the muggles weren't hurting him. You never gave him his wizard check-ups, taught him about his name, the position he holds in the magical world, or even about his family history. You did not fulfill your role as his guardian. You need to be replaced." Dumbledore looked in shock at the staff table. He was absolutely astounded. That speaker was none other than his resident Charms Master. The other professors looked as if they supported him. Was- was Quirrel _smiling_ at him? What on earth?

Dumbledore's greatest shock came with the voice from behind him. "My dear Headmaster, perhaps we should talk." The very poised, politically savvy, and vicious Lucius Malfoy was standing in the doors of the Great Hall.

Dumbledore knew he was in trouble. Lord Malfoy was smiling.

About the professor's table, up against the ceiling, a small portrait of Salazar Slytherin looked over the Great Hall. He was surprised that his plans had moved ahead in this area, as he had had another idea about how to remove Harry from the muggles. He was ready to move ahead with his plan. More pain and suffering for Dumbledore was always good.

He was also smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and all characters are not mine. I am sure you have already figured that out.

Now an apology for this late update- there has been a death in my family, an emergency surgery for me, and an extended hospital stay because of something call an infection in my blood which turned out to be pretty dangerous.

I hate going to the doctor, so I had to get really sick first. It almost killed me they say. I am weak still, but I feel better.

Thank you all for your interest in my fantasy world! I hope you like my perceptions of the characters. Thank you for your reviews!

Lord Malfoy had been pleased to receive a letter from his son. He always was, after all he loved him. He settled in his favorite chair in front of the fireplace, stretching out his legs to get comfortable.

Lucius Malfoy opened the letter with precision. Precision was something he practiced everyday in all he did. It always paid to look as if you were always in complete control of yourself and your emotions at all times. You never know who could be watching.

He unfolded the letter with a small smile, expecting to be amused.

He bolted upright with a gasp. What was this? Harry Potter… oh my. Of course, he wanted to know right away. Yes, he knew what to do. Of course, he knew who Potter's closest family was. Yes, he would pull strings. At dinner, in the Great Hall, today. He would be ready.

And it would all be calculated for the best effect, because you might not know who was watching, but in this case Lord Lucius Malfoy most certainly wanted to be watched.

Can't be sure to give Dumbledore ulcers from the shadows.

It didn't take long, after insuring the cooperation of the Minister of Magic by showing him Draco's letter, to get the records on Mr. Potter pulled, examined, and proved to be highly irregular. And slightly illegal.

It has never been proper form to hide the details of the welfare of an orphan from Wizarding Children's Services. Especially one from the old families. Ancient and Noble families are cherished by the average wizards for the magic they wield. After all, only those with concentrated Family Magics are able to perform some of the most important services for the Magical World. Who else would have the power to hold up buildings for repairs, stop the river from flowing for periods of time, and cast protective spells over entire villages? These were only a sample.

Oh yes, if they wanted, the old families could make their own world at leave the rest to fend for themselves. They only stayed out of age old family honor. It was a matter of pride to be so well esteemed by ones peers. It gave one power to make changes, or keep things the same, since the muggleborn just didn't understand why magicals do things the way they do. Who wanted to do the minutiae of everyday life themselves?

Sometimes they were tempted anyway. This was one of those times.

From there, getting the correct and legal paperwork pushed through and signed was no problem. The Minister was in shock. The Direction of Children's Services was already looking into the muggle family, and the specious reasons given into placing the Potter Heir there. It was obvious 'for his protection' could be nothing but a lie. There were just too many ways to protect a child, and one of the old magics would be so easy to cast protective magic on since their innate magic is such a strong amplifier.

Someone would probably lose a job over it. He was of the firm opinion it should be 'too many robes' Dumbledore.

It took the morning, so by afternoon he found himself having tea in Diagon Alley in an upscale restaurant. He felt immensely pleased with himself. There were so many ways to work this in his favor it was pointless to count them.

He checked his pocket watch, making sure he had plenty of time to be by the doors of the Great Hall and wait for the perfect time to enter and take control. He knew Draco would have received his owl on his morning activities by now, and would be following his directions.

Of course, Rita Sceeter, the scum of journalists everywhere, had already been notified. She would meet him there.

Soon the whole wizarding world would know about the mistreatment of Harry Potter.

Oh Dumbledore, how the mighty was fixing to fall. How delicious this all was! He checked his pocket watch again, and decided to leave a little early. Gracefully he rose to his feet, giving all and sundry a small smile. Such was his mood, he was willing to bestow a bit of it to the adoring masses. Soon all the sheeple would be talking of this day. Nothing like making history to keep a person satisfied.

Once he had apparated to the gates of Hogwarts, he waited for his scum to arrive. As soon as she appeared, he wasted no time in striding forward. He felt the wards around him bend, allowing them entrance, and wondered what it would feel like to have them under his control. Before this was all said and done, he might actually find out.

He waited until the right moment in the conversations to make his entrance. With a flourish, of course.

"My dear Headmaster, perhaps we should talk." The look on Dumbledore's face would be strong enough to fuel his next patronus. However, it was the look on Harry Potter's face that made him pause. Before he hid it, and hide it he did, he recognized vengeance.

The world as it was known was going to change.

Lucius Malfoy spared a moment to wonder how much he could profit off of those who weren't ready.

Dumbledore found his tongue, and finally responded. "If you would come with me-" was as far as he got before he was interrupted.

"No! I want to hear what he has to say! It is obviously about me! I am entitled to hear it!" Harry's outburst made Dumbledore pause. How much worse was this going to get?

"Harry, you may come too then. My office, please, gentlemen."

The muttering in the Great Hall made it clear that everyone there wanted to know what was going to be said too. When the students caught sight of Rita Sceeter with her quill behind Lord Malfoy furiously writing, it became clear that they were eventually going to find out anyway.

Harry looked at Draco, with a question in his eyes. They had discussed making everything known in the Great Hall. Would it be safe to go with Dumbledore since Mr. Malfoy had brought Rita Sceeter? Draco nodded just a bit, enough to let Harry know it would be OK. He gestured to Harry that it was his show.

Harry stood up, and gave a nod to Mr. Malfoy. "What is it, Mr. Malfoy?"

Mr. Malfoy gave a blindingly brilliant smile back which morphed into a very satisfied smirk. "It seems, Mr. Potter, that a few errors and illegalities have been committed on your person. I have had the privilege of finding them, then correcting them, only today." Draco was at the right angle to see the expression of horror on Dumbledore's face. He coveted the thought of being able to show this memory to his Father and Harry, his honest to Merlin friend. Who would have thought? "Would you care to learn of them here, or would you like a more private setting?" Lucius was a betting man, so he believed Potter would choose privacy.

Harry took a deep breath, and looked around him at all the curious faces. "If everyone is going to find out about them anyway, why not here?"

Well, life would be boring if there weren't new things to learn everyday. Lucius was convinced you could never know enough. After all, knowledge is power.

Dumbledore was thinking quickly. He had to fix this, put things in order again. What had Lucius Malfoy figured out? What had he fixed? Dumbledore knew he had buried the records with strong notice-me-not charms. Was anyone at the Ministry capable of breaking them? It would take more than one strong wizard, so he should be safe.

He hadn't put much thought into how many people it would take to make the changes Malfoy was suggesting. Or how much power those people wield.

In his frame, Salazar gave himself a mental pat on the back. Everything was paying off. Especially the portraits in the Ministry. It was good to be a Slytherin.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello! I am happy to finally update. Sorry about the delay, but life intrudes sometimes. It is quite late, so I hope there aren't too many errors.

Harry isn't mine. Too bad.

Salazar quickly moved down his picture highway, dropping a word here, calling in a favor there. He would not let this go down wrong. Dumbeldore was a slippery lion; (wasn't that an oxymoron), devious, conniving, and he had half of the wizarding world in his debt in one way or another. He had to make sure that there was no way the 'Great Conniver'could counter-act this bold move of the Potter Heir. He had made a promise, and he intended to keep it. Dumbledore was fixing to find out who had the most power in the wizarding world. Poor, poor old man. Wouldn't he like to be a fly on the wall…oh wait! He would just be a portrait instead.

He called his house-elf, a descendant of his original house elves, and had him take him to the pre-appointed meeting place. He enlarged the frame, to make him man-sized, and set the wards. No one would interfere.

He would not let them. He sent the elf off with the pre-written note, and waited.

Quirrell was sitting at the head table in the great hall, watching what was going on with a great deal of interest. He could feel his master's interest as well. They were both listening to what was going on.

And most definitely liking it.

He wasn't sure, but he thought he might have scared Snape. What was so scary about his smile? Stupid spineless brewer. His master would put him in his place when he had his body back.

Quirrell was startled when a house elf appeared before him and handed him a note. He quickly opened it. It was simple and to the point. -Take the hand of the elf. -

Quirrell was still puzzling over who sent the note and what they wanted and did not notice as his hand reached out toward the elf. He was shocked to suddenly find himself in apparition, and he fell to his knees when he came out. Then he remembered nothing.

The sound of Quirrels' death was in the air. "It is time, my heir, to fulfill your potential."

The pain Tom Marvolo Riddle experienced was worse than any pain he had ever felt. He was stretched, pulled, squished, sliced and diced. He was convinced he was dead again. This pain was worse than death! Was that a tear? Oh no. Horrible emotions. He felt remorse. Who was responsible for this? It wasn't possible! He made sure to hide the pieces far apart. He never told anyone what he had done. There was no way possible anyone could have known! He looked up, and realized he was looking up. He had a body. Impossible. Nothing that happened was possible! He slowly climbed to his feet, shaking.

"Now that you have returned, it is time for you to become the wizard you were meant to be." Tom Riddle looked into the eyes of a portrait that was confessing to having performed soul magic. Something else impossible. "You will recover your strength in time, right now you will struggle with emotions. Feel every one, you will." Emotions! He hated them, they made him weak.

"You were a genius, but raised as a muggle you had no idea of the consequences of creating a horcrux. No book could possible know all. I, however, do. I wrote the book about them in the first place. Sanity is the consequence of an improperly performed ritual. I never wrote down how to perform the ritual for a reason! Was it a pleasant experience for you?" What?

"Shake off your miasma, Tom Marvolo Riddle! I call upon you, the Heir of Slytherin, in the name of Magic. _I created you, I can disown you, I __can pull the family magics from you. Acknowledge me!" _The power in the air gave Tom Riddle pause. Instead of throwing a curse as was his wont, the parseltongue made him pause. Something else not possible.

He felt the magic call out to him, enter him, and entwine with his core. He swallowed as he balanced himself by placing a hand on the closest wall, and decided to use the brain he was gifted with and apparently could use again. "Who are you, if I may ask?"

The portrait smiled. "There is the wizard I was looking for. I am Salazar Slytherin, the only Horcrux in existence make the proper way. I command you to call on your brain, your blood, your magic, your _gift,_ and rescue your Heir from the clutches of Dumbledore. Quickly now, I have it all set up (the elf handed him a sheaf of papers), just a bit of strength and power from me to get you solidly on your feet (it made Tom feel so warm, powerful, alive), a bit of legilimancy to catch you up to speed (so much knowledge), and you are ready."

Salazar watched as the knowledge settled in, took hold, and became real to the Dark Lord of this era. He smiled as he watched the realization that Salazar was, without a doubt, the all powerful wizard he had professed to be. He wondered, would Tom be able to step up and do all he had asked of him? Would he buckle under the weight of fixing the ills he had originally been aiming for, now that they were so much worse?

Tom Riddle looked at the living horcrux of a painting that was Salazar Slytherin, his own ancestor, thought of his living horcrux that he was going to claim, and only had one question.

"What happened to Quirrell?"


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry the last chapter was so short, it sort of stood alone. And sorry about the formatting! I don't know what I did, but I will do my best to not repeat it. Kind of annoying to read it that way.

I own nothing! Thank you for the reviews, it makes me feel all warm and toasty. I try to answer your questions in the story, I promise I read them all. I get reviews that tell me they want more of 'I Don't Want to Die', so does anyone want to take it over and make more of it? Send me a message, and I would be happy to let it be adopted.

I have actually had to type most of this with one finger while holding my baby, so please forgive typos.

Dumbledore had cast privacy wards over the end of the table where they were sitting, making sure the student body could hear nothing. It was a mark of how powerful he was, that Lucius Malfoy hadn't noticed. He didn't believe Harry had either, which concerned him. He should have noticed if he was going to defeat the Dark Lord. He hadn't decided if he would train Harry to take his place as the Light Lord, or allow him to become a martyr. Only time would tell, and with the Sorcerer's Stone, he had plenty of time to decide.

Harry was aware of the magic that enveloped the table, but he didn't know what it was. He was still just learning, but he could feel the resentment in the magic. The one who cast it resented having to do so, and being a smart boy, he knew the only option was Dumbledore. Especially so since Dumbledore would have noticed it and commented or canceled it. He did neither, so he cast it. Why was it so important to Dumbledore to keep Harry in the dark? What was so important that Dumbledore had to keep hidden that he had to keep everyone else in the dark too? Why could he not treat Harry the same as anyone else would be in the same situation?

Harry leaned back, forcing himself to remain calm. He was cared for, he knew that. Salazar cared, Draco cared, Hermione cared. What Harry really wanted was a family, to belong someplace. He would settle for what he had for now, but he knew he was related to almost every pure-blood family. Draco said so, and he knew Draco wouldn't lie to him anymore. Well, at least not about this. There had to be a family that wanted him, not just the Malfoys. He should have a choice! Children in the muggle world were allowed to choose. Harry wanted a family that wanted him, Harry, not the Boy-Who-Lived. Salazar gave Harry that feeling of belonging, but as a portrait, what could he do?

There should be no way that he would be forced to live with people who didn't want him and actively hated him.

Lucius listed all of Dumbledore's wrong-doings, giving Dumbledore the list of mistakes that he needed to sweep under the rug. Saved him the time and trouble of doing the research himself, since he could trust no one with his plans. Lucius was such a good boy, doing so much to help him out. He would have to let Lucius have a boon of some kind, to reward him for finding out for him just exactly who he would need to obliviate.

Too bad he couldn't just kill the Malfoy Lord, but he did need the infusion of his family magic this Samhain to add specialty wards to the Ministry. Such an awful mess. Dumbledore really wished it had not taken place in the Great Hall, but he had no doubts about convincing the student body that it was all for the good of their Savior. Once he had modified Harry's emotions and memories, there would be no more problems.

He began weaving his hand under the table, while carefully looking at the documents that Lucius provided. They were all legal, giving Lucius complete control of his weapon. Too bad he could not allow that to happen. This had gone on too long, two hours was more than enough for him to appear to truly care about working things out. He would keep his reputation and his untried weapon.

Dumbledore paused in his spell-casting when the doors to the Great Hall were once again opened. He swallowed a frown, because now he would have to start the spell over. He was surprised when he recognized, or thought he did, the man who came in with the Minister of Magic. It just wasn't possible, must just be a resemblance through a distant branch of the family somehow. Purebloods are notorious for inbreeding, after all.

"Hello!" Dumbledore did not let his irritation at being interrupted show. "What may I do for you today, Cornelius?" He carefully did not look at the stranger, showing him, no matter who he was or why he was here, that he had to wait on Dumbledore's good will. All those of questionable loyalty were treated this way until they chose his side. They always chose him, in the end.

Dumbledore shifted his body in front of Lucius and Harry, subtly saying all that was happening he was in charge of. Best to let them know he was in control.

Dumbledore had his attention focused on the new arrivals and completely missed Harry and Lucius Malfoy move away from him to stand by the nearest student table, openly defying Dumbledore's claim of power over them. Harry and Lucius didn't miss it as Rita Skeeter, who happened to be sitting there, told them all about how they were muffled against Harry's wishes. The students were quick to back her up.

It made Harry's anger rise again, knowing that even here in the Great Hall, surrounded by the entire student body, Dumbledore still tried to hide what he was doing. It unsettled him as well, because Harry believed Dumbledore must have done it before to believe he could get away with it now.

I pleased Lucius Malfoy for the student body to see what was going on. He firmly believed Dumbledore had made one mistake too many, and that there was no way he could cover it up. After all, those quick quills of his favorite journalist could read lips, which was why he allowed the silencing spell to continue. No need to tip his hand unnecessarily. He could feel his magic respond to the anticipation he felt, making the sounds all around him seem so clear, the view so crisp. That was how he noticed that the man standing with the minister looked remarkably like a photograph of his Father's.

It was a cherished photograph, the only one of the mighty and powerful Dark Lord, framed and mounted with the Manor's wards and hung in his private office. Lucius slowly stood up, using his cane for balance as his eyes met the eyes of the minister's guest. His magic confirmed the identity of the man, so he lowered his head in respect. He looked at Dumbledore out of the corner of eye, and allowed himself a small smile. He wished he had taken the bet his 'business associate' offered him on the time-line for Dumbledore's removal from Hogwarts. He also wished for some popcorn. Good entertainment was so hard to come by these days.

Cornelius Fudge shifted uncomfortably. He hated talking to Dumbledore. The Headmaster was always vague, and spoke in riddles and half-truths. Getting a straight answer from him was impossible, and Cornelius just didn't feel up to the challenge. He woke this morning with a headache, and his pain potion was beginning to wear off.

As Fudge tried to subtly search his pockets for another bottle of pain reliever, and his mind for an answer to what he was wanting from Dumbledore that was safe enough to tell the conniving head-ache maker, his guest stepped a bit in front of Fudge to let Dumbledore know he recognized the move Dumbledore had made for what it was. Tom Marvolo Riddle did not see Dumbledore's posturing as anything other than a thinly veiled threat. He intended to treat it as such.

The new Lord of Slytherin, (since his quick stop at Gringotts,) gave a shallow nod to Lucius Malfoy to acknowledge is obeisance. "Greetings, Headmaster of Hogwarts. The Minister of Magic has insisted he accompany me to claim my Heir. He seems to think it might be a problem, so he has offered to -smooth the way- as he put it." He watched as Dumbledore seemed to be surprised. Surely not at his age. "Do you have any objections?"

Dumbledore thought about the question, and decided that it couldn't matter. The only thing he was concerned over was the state of the paperwork that the Malfoy Lord was going to soon waiver due to the change of heart he was going to give him. Dumbledore didn't much care who the stranger wanted, the Headmaster just wanted to get back to the damage control he was fixing to cast on his weapon and the father of a slytherin student who was facing detention until he graduated. With Filch. "No, young man, I don't mind. Just tell us who you have come to claim, so that we can continue on. This day is a long one, and I am sure we all wish to resolve our issues before bed!" He chortled, gave a grandfatherly smile, and glance around the Great Hall to make sure all of the students had seen it.

Tom Riddle gave a slow smile to Dumbledore, letting him feel the threat in it, and watched as Dumbledore stood a little straighter in response. It was too late now to stop him, as Headmaster he had already given permission. "I, Tom Marvolo Riddle," oh how good it was to see the shock on the Headmaster's face, "Call on magic as Lord of Slytherin," he felt pride when at those words Harry gave him his full attention, "to acknowledge and claim as my Heir by magic and by birth, Harry James Potter." He knew he had won the gamble of doing this here with so many witnesses when he saw the hunger those words evoked on the Potter Heir. "Do you, Harry James Potter, accept?"

Harry focused on the new Slytherin Lord after the smile and nod from the portrait of Salazar that had appeared above the doors to the Great Hall let him know this was for real. Salazar had kept his word! He didn't hear Dumbledore shouting, the buzzing of the Great Hall, or even see the smile of encouragement from Lord Malfoy. He had eyes only for the man who actually wanted him. Harry started to move forward, smiling. He shook off the hand that tried to cover his mouth, and he never noticed the spell Dumbledore cast at him bounce off a hastily erected shield. His acceptance shone in his magical aura before he could speak the words. "I accept."

With those words uttered, Dumbledore's plans crashed. There was no damage control to be done now, a Lord had complete control of his Heir at all times. Not even knowing Lord Malfoy would not get Harry Potter under his control either gave him any comfort. He would have to come at this problem from a different angle. After all, the wizarding world would want to know their Savior was the Heir of the Dark Lord he destroyed. He would spin this as only he could, and pass some new laws in the Wizengamott. Dumbledore had no way of knowing that it would make him look like he was a power hungry half-blood, and in doing so would lose almost all of his support. No pure-blood would allow an Heir to be removed from a Lord.

No one saw the portraits of Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff exchange a few gallons as they watched a house elf revive Professor Severus Snape.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey Ho! I have had some wonderful reviews on that last chapter, so I am inspired. I do so wish that all of these characters I am playing with were mine, but oh well.

I hope all the questions you have asked have been answered in this chapter. If not, feel free to let me know!

Harry stood tall, not letting the swirl of magic, sound, and emotions touch him. He was using magic to protect himself from what he perceived as a threat, and didn't even know it. The bubble of his magic was a clear, emerald green, the color of his eyes, the color of death. Tom Riddle thought it was beautiful.

"Come, my Heir, we have much to discuss." The new Lord of Slytherin was so proud of Harry as he watched Harry's magic push the grasping hands of the Headmaster away so hard Dumbledore fell on his bum. It was fitting.

"NO! I forbid you to leave this room, Harry. This man is your enemy! He wants you for his own evil purposes!" Dumbledore said as he stood up, he was in a towering fury, and was prepared to do anything possible to stop Harry from leaving the Great Hall with Riddle. He knew Riddle's alter ego, and could not let him have his weapon. All his work, the prophecy, the Potters, the Dursleys, undone by the pureblood rules of ascension! How could Harry possibly be even in the running to be Riddle's Heir? Dumbledore faced Riddle, his eyes no longer twinkling, and made what he thought was a powerful threat. "I know who you are, and I am not afraid to tell everyone here!"

Tom smiled. So nice to see the 'Lord of Light' try his hand at manipulating the Dark Lord. Amusing, really. And somewhat pathetic. There was only one response to make. "Tell everyone who I am? They should all know by now, after all I came in here and announced it. Why don't you tell these good students how you were treating their Savior?" The shock on Dumbledore's face was so delicious. "Why not tell them where you had placed him as a baby, how he was treated there, and why you were going to force him to return?" Riddle's smile was predatory. "Speak up. We can't quite hear you." It seemed as if all of the students in the Great Hall were talking in low tones to one another, trying to make sure they missed nothing of what was said.

Dumbledore was speachless for the moment, he did not know how to respond to that. There was really no way to sugar-coat his placing Harry with muggles. No matter what he said it would still sound bad to all of these children who had noticed Harry's smaller stature and tendency to flinch. If they found out he had been placed there before his Godfather had been arrested, they would all know it done against the law.

Riddle continued speaking. "Come now, Dumbledore. Why not tell them how placing Harry with the Dursleys in the muggle world was highly illegal?" Damnation! Riddle was playing for keeps to let such information out. Why would he not use it to try and manipulate him behind the scenes? Why push it now? "Why not tell them that you had his Godfather placed in Azkaban without a trial?" NO! Did he have time to mass obliviate all of those here? Dumbledore knew he needed to think clearly, and act fast. His anger was quickly rising out of his control. He needed to stay in control of his emotions or he couldn't hope to control the emotions of others!

Tom Riddle was feeling really, really good. He had just made sure, no matter what, that the entire wizarding world would know by breakfast tomorrow the former address of the boy-who-lived. Not to mention that he was sure there would be a formal investigation announced tomorrow on the incarceration of Sirius Black. He wondered if Dumbledore had anything left he was willing to try with so many witnesses.

Dumbledore was furious! There was no way Voldemort was going to get away with this. If all of students knew who Tom Riddle was, they would take the Headmaster's side for sure. Not to mention Rita Skeeter! If he could direct attention to Riddle being the Dark Lord, maybe he would be able to hush up this whole mess. If she would report that the Dark Lord had taken control of the Savior and planned to kill him, Dumbledore could convince the Wizengamot of the need to combine the magic of the remaining pure-blood families and he would then be able to break the bond poor Harry had unintentionally accepted. All would return to the way it should be with just a bit more effort than he was used to exerting.

"Harry doesn't know what he is doing! You are taking advantage of his ignorance! There aren't many left who know that you are none other than Lord Voldemort himself!" There! See him get out of that. Harry will turn on him for killing his parents and leaving him to the miserable life he had at the Dursleys, and put his faith in Dumbledore once more.

The Headmaster was concentrating so hard on Tom Riddle that he didn't notice the snickers and laughter that his statement received. Or the fact that Harry was looking at him as if he was mad.

"I don't know how I didn't see it." Harry spoke quietly, but Tom heard him. Harry slowly moved away from Dumbledore, as if he were afraid he might catch something. He looked for guidance to the man who had just made all his silly childhood dreams of being rescued come true, then glanced at Dumbledore before looking back to Tom and mouthing the word 'barking.'

Tom's smile was beautific, causing many a girl, as well as boy, to sigh. Riddle motioned for Lucius to cover Harry while drawing his wand, ready to take on the old man for trying to take from Tom what did not belong to him. Harry was the Dark Lord's, and had been from the moment Tom had made him a horcrux. Now that he had his sanity back, the war was already over. The only one who was still fighting was Dumbledore. Maybe he could goad him in front of the minister and that Skeeter bint. He should do what he could to make sure Dumbledore spends his golden years with soul-suckers. No one would appreciate the irony like he could.

His faithful Death-eaters had managed to take a spot in the ministry, in every department. It was all his, ripe and ready for the picking. Everything was falling nicely into place.

Cornelius was shocked. The most respected wizard in the world was making a scene that could have been taken right out of a children's book. What was he thinking? There was no way anyone would believe his ramblings. Tom Riddle the Dark Lord? He was Lord Slytherin, the Minister had seen him claim his title just a little while ago. And his reasoning, who could doubt him? Mr. Riddle had found his Heir, he had said, and he needed a witness to the depths that had been gone to, to hide him away from his rightful Lord.

It just wasn't done! No one interferes with a Lord and his Heir. Family magic makes sure the Lord does not harm the Heir, bound to nurture and care for the next generation of magic users who wield the old Magics, so what reason could Dumbledore have had? Was 'enemy, evil purposes' the best he could come up with? And to think Cornelius had been relying on his advice to help run the Ministry. He should have listened to Lucius when Lord Malfoy had told him that Dumbledore was too old. It was obvious now that he must have been stewing in his own insane little world for some time. Good thing Rita was here! She was a fine woman and an excellent journalist. She would make sure the wizarding world knew to protect itself from the defeater of the old Dark Lord. Albus must have developed a need to stay in the limelight for defeating Dark Lords. Poor man. He had done so much good, the Minister vowed to get him the help he so obviously needed for past services to the wizarding world. He tapped the button on his collar which was an emergency medical alert. There would be someone here soon from St. Mungos.

"Now Albus, calm down. Everything is under control. You are acting as if you believe Lord Slytherin is the Devil." He paused for a moment. "You don't actually believe he is the devil, do you?" Dumbledore was just staring at him now, shocked. "You have taken to heart so many muggle customs," he raised his hands to show no hard feelings, "now don't be upset, no one cares that you have, its just that maybe you should have just stuck with Halloween." The Minister adopted a sweet, cheerful tone he usually reserved for children. "Lots of little lemon candies, Albus. Shall we talk about the lemon candies? I promise to get you lots and lots. Just sit down now, alright?"

Harry and Draco exchanged looks, and it made it even harder for them to hold in the laughter. Harry had doubled over, holding his stomach, and he was pretty sure he had pulled a muscle. He leaned carefully against the bench, trying to make sure he didn't fall in the floor. It would contradict the image he was going for now.

Draco leaned forward placing a hand on the nearest bench, helping himself to keep the laughter in. Oh, it hurt! He thought he might have pulled a muscle! He tried for a dignified posture, hoping to hide his undignified response.

Harry and Draco both lost it when they heard Hermione utter in the now silent hall, "The Devil, lemon drops and Halloween. Why didn't I see it?" It was obvious to her now that Dumbledore must have been mad for years.

When the men from St. Mungos in the white coats came in, Hermione started to hum, "Their coming to take me away, haha, heehee, hoho" Harry finally gave up the struggle, falling to the floor laughing.

She didn't notice that Salazar had a record playing in the portrait behind the head table the with same tune Hermione had been humming. She would maintain that she came up with it on her own, but even a genius Griffindor could fall pray to a Slytherin's well-laid plans. It helped boost the morale of the whole school that for the next month every suit of armor and every portrait could be heard humming it, just to make sure no one could get the tune out of their minds.

A Slytherin was nothing if not thorough.

After a brief struggle, the St. Mungo's team managed to subdue Dumbledore, the Minister had given a sincere and thoughtful interview to Rita Skeeter and she had left to get all of the action she had witnessed in the paper, and Tom Riddle had helped Harry Potter off the floor and taken him away by portkey.

Lucius had helped his son Draco up, and escorted him back to the Slytherin Dormitories. He gave him instructions to keep his mouth closed, which Draco found hard to do because the new password for everything in the Slytherin Dorms happened to be 'lemon drops.' It seemed all of his fellow slytherins were having problems not laughing as well. Draco sincerely believed they all had the memory it would take to fuel a corporeal patronus.

Draco asked his Father, "Where is Harry right now? Is he alright?" He didn't want to lose his new friend, and being the Heir of Slytherin would have many advantages that everyone would envy. He so wanted to be Harry's friend now, more than ever.

Mr. Malfoy smiled, and it was a calm, satisfied smile. "He will be fine, my son, he is good hands." Draco smiled, happy with the answer.

"Will there be any lemon drops?" He snorted at the look on his Father's face. Lucius placed a hand to his forehead, looking almost pained. "I had to Father. I just had to."

Harry had been fed, cosseted, and treated as if he were wanted. He listened with admiration of the stories Tom Riddle told him, about how he had been perched to change the world, lost it all when he had broken his soul up to the point that he had believed a prophesy made by a hack trying to get a job, and tried to kill him as a baby. It had seemed so unreal, yet he knew it was true.

Tom explained to him how Dumbledore had placed Harry with the Durlseys against the Potters' will, and how the blood wards he used as an excuse to place Harry there 'for his own protection' were based on love, so were useless since the muggles hated Harry for everything he represented, much less what he could actually do. Every case of accidental magic was met with brute force, almost stunting his magical growth. His body compensated by using his magic to heal his body, resulting in his shortness of stature, yet managing to keep his magic growing strong through use.

Tom made it clear to Harry that he would protect him from now on, because the prophesy was nullified and through the Rites of Succession Harry now belonged to him. Or the prophesy was fulfilled, if you looked at it sideways. Salazar had combined all the soul pieces except one back into the spiritual essence he was, enabling his magic to form a body for him since he was still able to wield the Family Magics. Not to mention he could call on the magic of the castle as well. He did, just to make sure the body would be an exact replica of the one Tom Riddle used to have. It paid to have friends in high places. Literally.

Having claimed Harry as his Heir, which he could do since the only remaining horcrux since the combination of the other soul pieces still resided within Harry, magic recognized him as the son of Tom Riddle. Harry, having accepted the claim, was now had access to all the rights and privileges of a pure-blooded heir. Tom Riddle wasted no time explaining what his rights were, and what power of decision making he had over Harry.

All things considered, Harry was now happy. He had no problem putting his name behind the man who had freed him, and he already had a fierce respect for his ideals. Such as freedom to practice all types of magic for all magical beings, only stopping where another's rights begins, and the removal of magical children from the muggle world, having them blood adopted into an already established magical family. There were more, but he didn't care. These two meant the most to him, allowing him to hold his head up as a parselmouth, and leaving him with no fear that another magical child would suffer what he had.

He felt as is he could fly without a broom, he was so happy. He had new friends, he was excelling at everything he put his hand to, and his future, for the first time ever, looked to be great.

There was only one drawback. With all of this Slytherin business, he lost his first friend, Ronald Weasley. Oh well.

Weasel come, weasel go.


End file.
